And Then There Was Kung Fu Fighting
by A Raven Called Elliot
Summary: A 'friendly' football  soccer  match at a world conference is a great way to get your stress out. However, Netherlands is known to play it rough, and England plays just as hard. Crack ,no pairings. Disclaimer: don't own dude.


_And then they were kung fu fighting…_

Netherlands smiled fondly as he remembered the time he sent De Jong tulips for that drop kick to Alonso; it was worth that yellow card.

A year or so later, at a world conference, some nation (Italy) decided that it was time for a 'friendly' game, a way to exhaust their stresses of the day. America complained since he thought they were to be playing football, the real kind and not some wimpy girl sport. Netherlands glared at the North American nation, promising in his mind that there was a drop kick in it for him.

Even if he was on the same team; actually he wanted to switch him out for Canada who was much more of a team player then his twin, but he sat out this one. Mostly because no one noticed that he actually existed. There was a drop kick in for the others for that little disrespect towards his friend.

And to his luck England was on his team, he could taste the fear in the air as they looked knowingly at each other.

Then the game started and not even 10 minutes in there was a kung fu kick to America's chest. And even though they have the appearance of humans, they were actually stronger physically then their citizens and it made for very strong kicks, enough to send them flying. Though admittedly, America took it pretty good, he only fell on his ass and rubbing his chest and looking at Netherlands like he completely lost his mind, technically he already lost it but it makes no difference.

Switzerland, the ref didn't call that one, mumbling something about he needed it. So they continued on.

The female players were spared because Netherlands, as rough as he his, would never really hit a girl, and neither would England, he was after all a proper English gentleman. Who would properly hand your ass to you if you got in the way of his foot and the ball.

By the half point, people were getting scared, they didn't want to ball, well the males didn't want the ball, so when they had it they kicked it to a female team member, which admittedly were very few and far in between.

Then Spain saw his long and (he admits with a tiny bit of guilt) gruesome life flash in front of his bright green eyes. The black and white ball was heading towards him, and Netherlands could smell that fear. Like he can smell the fear in shop keeps when they see him walking down the lane in the markets, knowing who to go to haggle a better (cheaper) price in a ruthlessly cutthroat way that would make England in his piracy days cringe and flinch.

When he was thinking this, he felt the force of a Mack truck barrelling down the freeway when it hit a patch of ninja black ice and someone decided that said Mack truck didn't fucking breaks, hit his chest, then he felt the ground slip from his feet and he felt the air move across his ears and then the ground seemed much closer then before and Netherlands foot seem much farther then it seemed. Boy was he confused as he sat up dazed, it didn't help that England 'accidently' kicked the ball to his face, which admittedly didn't hurt as much as the kick but it did knock Spain's grin from his mouth.

Switzerland felt the need to call that one, but it was just the yellow card, since after all it seemed like Netherlands was going for the ball and Spain just was at the wrong place at the wrong time. He wasn't too sure about the ball though, especially when England freaking fist pounded the Dutchman.

Anyway back to the game, where France got the ball, and he stared at Spain, then at Netherlands, who looked England with another of those knowing looks, and the English man smirked. And somewhere at that very moment there were women who inexplicably had an orgasm. Then when Netherlands smirked back, virgins everywhere had an orgasm and became pregnant for no apparent reason, and yes even the male ones.

But that is not of import, what is of import, is that France is fucked, and not in the good way. France ran away from the ball, because this far into the game when England and Netherlands were so…intensely into it, it was almost a death wish. But somehow and someway he felt two feet hit his chest, one large and wide and England's smaller but still as strong leg connect and he was out for a while.

Then Switzerland decide that, this games needs to stop before someone gets murdered and then Germany barrels down to the Dutchman to give him stern talking; who didn't look like he gave much a fuck and ignored him in favour to the Canadian on the sidelines. Which only infuriated the German more but what can he do about the older nation, he can hold a lot over him.

Looking back on it, Netherlands wondered how he got away with all of the violent and rough play, but he supposed that it was the one day that no fucks were given.

And he left it at that.

* * *

AN: Heyyyyyyyy, i asked a friend to draw the double kick and she did, tis the awesome! - h t t p : / / b r o w s e . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / ? q h = & s e c t i o n = & q = w e n d g u i r e # / d 3 c z 2 3 l

just get ride of the spaces.


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